


4's Company(And that's OK)

by ThatOneGreyGhost



Category: MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Fluff, Healing, Kicking Hydra Ass, M/M, PTSD, Recovery! squad, domestic stucky, dumbass quartet(my name for them), minor smut, so much Sam apprecitation, sooooo much angst, stucky fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneGreyGhost/pseuds/ThatOneGreyGhost
Summary: So, I found this comment by Rachel Thompson on Pinterest, and she was talking about the common fanon view that Sam and Bucky are assholes to each other because they're friends, and I was inspired by another post about how Sam and Bucky battle for Steve's affections as his absolute best friend(from Sam's view) and then he walks in on Steve and Bucky making out and he goes "Oh, shit, the world's deadliest assassin thinks I'm after his man". So, have fun!
Relationships: Stucky
Comments: 18
Kudos: 63





	1. Kissing Bet

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally going to be multiple chapters, but I'm finished for the semester so bring it on! I think I'll probably post one a day unless I have work.

Sam was not having a good day.

Of course, he had been having a bad day before it slapped him in the face that he had made the worst mistake of his life, so he couldn't really complain at this point.

After the incident that was Thanos, Sam had woken up some place new. Some place different. And he and Bucky, being the stubborn assholes they were, they had gotten into a fight over Steve and who was his *real* best friend. Bucky had insisted it was him, whereas Sam declared it was him.

"I'm not the one who ran away from him. Twice." Sam had said.

That was where he had made his mistake. Bucky stopped talking to him, and when Sam apologized, even if it had been in fear of his life, Bucky seemed to accept it.

Except when they got back, Bucky ignored him. Pretended he wasn't there, unless he was in danger. Just, straight up acted like he didn't exist.

That hurt, especially when Nat and Steve got to talking and they decided to get an apartment for all of them until Steve could figure out how to apologize to Tony for being a dick. It wasn't that bad, mostly because even though the apartment was small, Nat wasn't there half the time, and given that the apartment only had three bedrooms, most days Sam didn't have to share. And since they'd been living together for almost a year, he figured out pretty quick that there were no set patterns when it came to Nat.

On days when Nat was there, there was a 50/50 chance he would have to room with Bucky. On bad days, Bucky and Nat shared a room. Those were the days when she couldn't do things on her own, when her nightmares left her unable to speak English the next morning. Sam knew that Nat and Bucky weren't... like that, but it was still weird to hear him slip out of their room in the middle of the night, cursing under his breath in Russian.

On Nat's good days, Bucky slept in his room. He took top bunk, which bothered Sam because the bottom bunk was for scrubs and Bucky knew that, he had to. Being Bucky's roommate meant putting up with Bucky's weird habits, like how he left a towel hanging over the door if he was in the shower, or how he never put the toothpaste back. But it also meant that on his bad nights, when he woke up crying, he would hear Bucky slip out of the top bunk and sit next to the ladder until Sam went back to sleep, hands folded in his lap, waiting patiently. It was almost as if he was keeping watch over Sam.

It was important for Sam to note that he didn't hate Bucky. Sam just thought he was kind of an asshole, but no more than Steve. Bucky was just... harsher about it. It probably had something to do with the fact that Bucky wouldn't talk about his triggers, not until he had been pushed to his limit. Sam tried to talk to him, but he figured out pretty quick that Bucky wasn't the kind of person who cooperated with others. It took Sam four months to figure out that Bucky had visceral reactions to Beatles songs, and he only figured out when he went to calm Bucky down after a panic attack, asking what kind of music he liked.

It wouldn't be so bad if Sam wasn't the only person in their household he ignored. But he talked to Nat(obviously), and he talked to Steve.

And, God, Steve looked different after Bucky moved in with them. He had been on the fence about it until moving day, which was part of the reason Sam had gotten a three bedroom place. But Steve, Steve lit up like the sun whenever Bucky walked in the room. He seemed more relaxed, and he even looked younger. Bucky treated Steve like shit, but it was more of a joke with him, and he even started laughing again after a few weeks. And it was a real laugh, too, not the half-assed shit Steve normally gave Sam.

"It's Barnes." Sam remarked when Nat said that Steve looked better. "He just does something to him. Like he wasn't really alive until Barnes came back".

"Yes, well, that's what love is." Nat shrugged, then vaulted over the couch and threw a pillow at Bucky's face. Bucky caught it, swearing loudly when he registered there was no actual threat.

"Черт возьми, маленькая вдова!" Bucky roared as Nat started laughing. "Don't do that to me! You could have ended up with a knife in your throat!"

"She would have caught it." Steve laughed as he came in, hugging Bucky from behind. Even Nat couldn't get away with that; Steve was the only person he lowered his guard around. "But Nat, don't do that. Do I have to bring up the handcuffs incident?"

Bucky's breath caught at that, and even though Sam was confused, he kept quiet. It was better for him not to push.

Eventually, they explained that in the Red Room, they handcuffed girls to their beds. They also told Sam about how Bucky had been a teacher in the Red Room, and that most likely would have been one of his responsibilities. Sam nodded, making a mental note never to pin Nat if he didn't have to.

That had been two weeks ago. Today was the worst day of Sam's life; it was Riley's birthday, and even though it hurt less than it had in years prior, he had been woken up by a nightmare, and Bucky hadn't been there. Nat wasn't home, so Sam had just thought Bucky might be in the bathroom. Until two hours had passed and he hadn't come back. Sam wasn't about to admit that he missed Bucky, but he did notice how it was harder for him to get to sleep without Bucky sitting by his bed.

When he opened his eyes again, it was ten am, and he shuffled to the kitchen to get coffee. As he got to the doorway, he saw Steve on the couch, back facing Sam, his knees on the cushions, his hands on his hips, his-

...those weren't his hands. One of them was metal. Vibrainium.

Sam simultaneously had two thoughts. The first was, "Shit. This explains a lot".

The second was "Oh my fucking God, the world's deadliest assassin thinks I was trying to put the moves on his man".

"Oh, shit." Sam slapped a hand over his mouth, backing out of the room as quickly as possible. He ran a mental tally of all the times he'd one upped Bucky in petty revenge. There was those times in May when he had- But did that count? He couldn't do things on his own, his arm had been broken... and then that time that he had all but claimed Steve for the day out of petty revenge- Come to think of it, he'd done that a lot. He tried to count how many times that had happened.

He gave up after 30. He was screwed, he was so fucking screwed. How many times had he used Steve to intentionally fuck with Bucky? He'd done it yesterday, for God's sake!

"Did you piss off Bucky again?" Nat whispered, and Sam damn near jumped out of his skin. Fuck, that girl was quiet.

"Um..." Sam decided to ask for help. Not that it would get him anywhere, but at least he could explain himself to one person before he died. "Nat, I think I fucked up".

"How so?" Nat walked into the living room and immediately stopped. "Ah".

"Go back to bed, маленькая вдова. I know you didn't sleep last night." Bucky's voice wanders from the living room, but it sounds different. Drunk, almost.

Sam pokes his head in the room, and he sees Steve sitting on the couch, Bucky sitting in his lap, his legs taking up the res of the couch space. Bucky is leaning his head against Steve's chest, and it's clear he's been crying, although Steve's not much better. Bucky's hair is tangled, and Sam notices that his hand is shaking, just a little bit, as it reaches for Steve's.

"Well? Come on!" Nat beckons to Sam, who awkwardly wanders into the room. Bucky narrows his eyes at him, and he feels panic and shame flooding him.

"Hi." He waves at Steve and Bucky. Bucky just squints at him, but Steve smiles back.

"Hi. Did we wake you?"

"No..."

"It's hard to wake someone who doesn't sleep." Bucky mutters.

That was a low blow, but it worked. Sam blushes, looking away as tears start to spring up.

"Hey. That was mean." Steve pushes Bucky off his lap as he walks up to Sam, concern in his features. "You ok?"

Sam shook his head, not wanting to lie to his friend. Part of him believed he'd deserved that, and the other part wanted to pretend it didn't happen.

"It's... Nightmares. Old ghosts." Sam used his safeword, the one that referred to nightmares about Riley. "You think it'd hurt less, after all this time".

"Well, it's hard to just get a part of you taken away. I understand if you need some space".

"Actually, space is the last thing I need right now." Sam sits at the counter, stealing Nat's coffee. "I've been in my own head for too long".

"Ok. Just let us know if it gets to be too much." Steve turns and smiles at Bucky, who has stalked over to them and is glaring at Sam. "You need something, Buck?"

Bucky grabs Steve around the waist and glares at Sam, who decides to glare back.

"Mine." Bucky hisses. Jesus, what is he, a cat?

"Ok".

"Mineeeeeee".

"Ok, I heard you. You can keep him, he has no braincells anyway".

That gets a laugh out of Nat, but Steve just rolls his eyes, then stiffens.

"Oh! Before I forget..." He runs from the room and comes back a few minutes later with his drawing pad, opened to a new page. "Happy Birthday, Buck".

Sam chokes on his coffee.

"What?" He stammers as Nat swears loudly in Russian.

"Dammit, that's today! How is it the 10th already?"

Sam is reeling; he's not sure if he can handle this. Bucky and Riley having the same birthday... Today is not going to be a good day.

"Sam? You ok?" Steve taps his shoulder, and he doesn't manage to check his flinch. Steve instantly draws back, hands up in a form of surrender. "Whoa, it's just me".

Steve blinks after he says that, and Sam suspects that it wasn't meant for him. He looks at Steve, then at Bucky, then at Nat. He makes a choice.

"I want to talk to you." He grabs Bucky by the wrist and pulls him out of the room, barely containing the breakdown he feels coming on. He hasn't felt this messed up in a long time, and its scaring him, which is probably making it worse. He manages to get in his room before collapsing, back pressed against the door.

He tries to calm himself down, but he feels like he's fighting for his breaths, like he's cornered and he can't breathe. *Panic attack* he recognizes, and tries to slow his breathing. But his head is too loud, and he's too tired, and he can't stop crying. His chest is tight, and he feels dizzy, and he can't fucking breathe-

"Hey. Focus on me." Bucky grabs his shoulders, and while the grip is tight, it's not painful. Sam looks up, right at those ice blue eyes, panting irregularly.

"In..." Bucky inhales, motioning for Sam to do the same. "Out. Again. In..."

Slowly, Sam gets control of his breathing, and, slowly, Bucky releases his grip on Sam's shoulders, eventually letting go when he sees Sam is in control.

"do you want to talk about it, or is it just one of those days?"

"This is uncharacteristic for you".

"You're distracting. Answer the question".

"I should- I need- to talk about it." Sam takes a deep breath, then forces out the words. The longer he waits, the worse it gets. "How much have I told you about Riley?"

"He was in the army with you." Bucky purses his lips, but Sam knows he's only pretending to remember. If he wanted to, Bucky could list every detail Sam has ever told him. "He was your wingman, and your best friend. He went down on a routine mission when he got hit with an RPG".

"Today is his birthday".

"Oh." Bucky looks shocked, then pained. "I guess Steve threw you, huh?"

"Yeah, little bit." Sam leans his head against the door, closing his eyes. *Defense mechanism* the words flare up in his head, and he opens his eyes. "It hurt less today. And then he said those words and-"

"Does he know?" Bucky sits next to Sam, his posture relaxed, more so than he's ever seen. Sam shakes his head. "You should tell him".

"I just feel bad. I don't mean to shit on your day-"

Bucky holds up a hand to cut him off.

"I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. To be honest, I know Steve has a million things planned because I'm back and he's happy and we aren't poor anymore so we can actually do stuff-" Bucky stops, then inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth. "But I'm not really ready for that. And I know he'd listen to me, but I think you should tell him, because next year might be different".

"Don't you hate me?" The words jump out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I mean-"

"Jealousy and hate are rarely connected, no matter what people tell you." Bucky says, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall. "I know it's a problem, but ever since the serum, I've had this fear that one day he's gonna wake up and realize he doesn't need me anymore. It's gotten worse since... y'know".

"Huh. And that's why you're so possessive?"

"That, and if he wasn't so dense he'd see you flirting with him." Bucky glances at Sam out of the corner of his eye. "If that is what you're doing".

"Nah. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it, but he's not the kind of person you chase." Sam smiles at Bucky, feeling more stable now. "He's the kind you wait for, and I gave up on waiting a long time ago. He's all yours".

"Good, I almost thought we couldn't be friends anymore." Bucky smirks, and Sam realizes he's joking. "But seriously, you should tell him".

"I know." Sam gets up, unlocking the door(when did he lock it? He doesn't remember locking it.) and stepping out into the hallway. "What did he get you, by the way?"

"He drew me." Bucky smiles. "It's a nice picture, from one of the days I stole his hoodies".

"Is that the picture with the ring?" Sam slaps a hand over his mouth almost immediately. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to say that".

"What ring?" Bucky narrows his eyes, but Sam just shakes his head, so he storms off to the kitchen. "STEVEN! I HAVE A QUESTION!"

Sam gives himself a few seconds, then steps forward, and its like he let something go, like he's dropped a heavy load he had forgotten he was carrying. He feels lighter, and even the memory of this morning doesn't hurt as much.

Then he hears very loud Russian swearing, and he bolts forgets what he was thinking about.

Today is a good day.


	2. What He Calls Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's point of view, up to and past Sam's breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification, Bucky's birthday is March 10th according to canon. Riley does not have an established birthday in canon(that I could find). All of the events of the first 4 chapters take place on March 10th(including some flashbacks)

Bucky woke up and almost immediately vomited everywhere.

Almost immediately. As silently as he could, he jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom, chucking his guts the second he got to the toilet. He felt his hands shaking as he gripped the side of the toilet bowl, whimpering.

*Help* he thinks as he staggers out of the bathroom. He saw Sam sleeping peacefully and decided it wouldn't be fair to wake him, so he wanders over to Tasha's room.

It wasn't until he got there that he remembers she wasn't home. He stands outside her door, biting back tears. What now?

"Buck?" Steve's voice sounds from down the hallway, and Bucky turned to find him leaning out of his bedroom rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Bucky's voice felt dead in his ears, and he grabs the left sleeve of his pajama shirt, a habit he had picked up when he was living alone after the fight on the helicarrier. Steve walks up to him, gingerly, tapping his shoulder and tilting his head the way he did when he was concerned.

"I had a bad dream. Figured I wasn't going back to bed. Are you ok?" Steve looks worried, and Bucky gets a flash in his mind of a petite blond with health issues who had too much anger and not enough body to hold it all. He bites back tears again, because he doesn't know if he can ever get back what they had.

*Only one way to find out* something in him whispers.

"Can I... stay with you tonight?"

Steve looks a bit taken aback, and Bucky almost regrets saying it, but then Steve smiles and motions to his bedroom. Bucky watches as his vision goes blurry, as he stumbles after Steve and crashes into his bed. He feels removed from his own body, and at the same time, like his soul is full of lead. He lays on his back, crying quietly as Steve lays next to him. Eventually, he feels Steve slide an arm over his chest, and he turns into it, letting himself be held.

"I miss you." Bucky whispers.

"How? I'm right here".

"That's the worst part. You're right there, but it's like I- It's like-" Bucky breaks off, unable to finish his sentence. Steve pulls him closer, running a hand through his hair.

"It's ok. Take your time".

"You're right there, but it's like I can't reach you".

"Well, how about now? How far away do I feel?"

Bucky swallows hesitantly, then buries his face in Steve's chest. His heartbeat is strong and soothing, and Bucky feels much calmer after listening for only a few seconds.

"Not as far, but still out of reach".

"How can I get closer?"

"I- can I ask you a question?"

"Of course".

"Do you promise not hate me if I tell you the truth?"

"Of course I won't hate you." Steve looks aghast, and it makes Bucky feel a little better about what he's about to say.

"I... Love you." Bucky winces, but forces the rest out. If he doesn't say it now, he never will. "I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time".

Bucky expects Steve to say something like "I don't like you like that" or "Oh, um, thanks, but...no thanks".

He does not expect Steve to kiss him on the forehead and smile at him like nothing happened.

"I know." He smiles patiently, and Bucky blinks in shock.

"You... know?"

"I mean, I didn't 'Know', but I had my suspicions." Steve hugs Bucky tighter, and Bucky can feel tears on his cheeks. "I'm just glad you... I love you too, I mean".

God, this dork. He was so awkward, and Bucky smiles as he begins to realize that this blond dork is his now, that Steve likes him back.

"Get some sleep." Steve whispers, and he does. He sleeps better than he has in weeks, holding his best friend, his boyfriend. When he wakes up, it's early morning, and he wanders out to the kitchen to get coffee.

Steve comes out a few hours later, looking like a mess. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and he looks like he just woke up. Which to be fair, he probably just did.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Bucky feels quiet, but he can tell from the way Steve jumps out of his skin that he wasn't expecting that. "Did I spook you?"

"Jesus, Buck, you're going to give me a heart attack." Steve picks up his phone from the counter, glancing at something. "Huh".

"What?"

"Tony wants to meet up tomorrow. Says he wants to talk".

Bucky sits up at that. 

"You finally making some headway?"

"I guess. I've been trying." Steve smiles at the screen. "I'm just grateful to have my friend back".

Bucky feels a weird twinge in his chest when Steve says that, and he's not sure why.

*Jealousy* the word offers itself, and he supposes it's as good an explanation as any.

"C'mere." He beckons to Steve. Steve comes over, and Bucky stands, pointing to the couch. "Sit".

"Why?" Steve humors him, smiling.

"I wanna sit in your lap." Bucky straddles him, slinging his arms around Steve's neck and pecking him on the lips.

"Oh." Steve smiles, blushing violently. "Well, I suppose I can allow that".

"Shuddap, punk".

Bucky kisses Steve again, but its longer this time, gentle but deep. They kiss and cuddle, eventually switching positions. As Steve straddles Bucky, Bucky drops his hands to Steve's hips.

A noise distracts Bucky from the kiss.

"What was that?"

"Probably Nat".

"No, Tasha's quieter than that".

"Ok, then it was Sam. It's definitely someone who lives here, because we are not surrounded by guns right now." Steve gets up smirking at Bucky. "But if you want, I can go check..."

"No. Stay." Bucky gets up, dragging Steve back to the couch. He just saw Sam disappear around the corner. "I wanna sit in your lap again".

"Ok, Buck".

Bucky doesn't pay much attention to Sam until he grabs Bucky by the hand and leads him back to their shared room, closing the door and almost instantly breaking down.

"Hey. Focus on me." Bucky says, remembering the techniques Sam taught him. He knows Sam is capable of doing it himself, but sometimes it helps to have someone else walk you through it. Thankfully, it works, and Sam starts to calm down.

In the following fifteen minutes, Bucky learns three things; 1. Sam can see right through him 90% of the time, 2. Riley has the same birthday as him, and 3. Sam is most definitely not his enemy. He knows he's possessive of Steve, but now that Steve is completely his, he doesn't have to worry about Sam as much. Truth be told, he kinda likes Sam, but was put off by the fact that he was flirting with Steve or interrupting Bucky's time with him. But know that he knows Sam won't fight him on this, he can drop the attitude.

Then Sam asks him if the drawing Steve gave him had a ring on it.

"STEVEN! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Bucky storms into the room, grabbing the pad out of Steve's hand and seeing a half erased ring. 

"I... can explain..." Steve blushes as Bucky narrows his eyes at him.

"Dork." He tosses the drawing pad back. "Just how long have you been in love with me?"

"Since..." Steve mutters something unintelligible.

"Babe. Speak up".

"Since 1934. At that party. The one we weren't supposed to be at because of Madison".

"The..." Bucky cuts off, then unleashes an impressive string of Russian swears. ~that~ party. The one where he got plastered and kissed Steve. The one where he figured out he was in love with his best friend. 

"Are you fucking shitting me!" Bucky screeches as Sam slides into the room. "Jesus Christ, Rogers, we could have been having this conversation a hell of a lot sooner if you'd-"

Bucky inhales sharply through his nose. He's getting worked up, and he doesn't feel stable, so it's probably better for him to calm down.

"I'm going to smack you. You are actually an idiot".

"Says the guy who crawled into my bed last night." Steve smiles, then registers what he said as Tasha chokes on her coffee.

"как Вы смеете." Bucky points at Tasha. "I will end you".

"Alright." Tasha puts her hands up in a form of surrender, but Bucky isn't paying attention to her anymore. He's looking at Sam.

"You good man? You look a little burned out".

"Mhm." Sam mutters, rubbing his eyes. "I feel tired. I need sleep".

"So you won't be joining us?" Steve asks, and while Bucky is sure he's trying his best not to sound disappointed, he's also failing miserably.

"Actually, I kinda don't want to go out." Bucky says, and Steve has pretty much the exact reaction he expected; disappointed but unsurprised. "Maybe next year".

Bucky gives Sam the look, the look of "You gotta tell him".

"I want to talk to you guys about that, actually." Sam says, and Bucky nods patiently.

"So, today is Riley's birthday." Sam starts. Tasha nods, instantly understanding, but it takes Steve a little longer. "I just... I need you guys to be patient with me".

"Of course." Tasha smiles.

"No problem." Steve says, but he looks a little sad about it.

Bucky just nods once, a quick and quiet gesture of reaffirmation. They sit down on the couch together, and Tasha pulls out the MarioKart controls.

"I call Luigi." she says as she drops the number one controller into Bucky's lap.

"No fair! That's the best one!" Steve complains.

"Can we... not do courses with flying?" Sam asks, his voice tightening as he says it.

"Yeah, I'll figure that out. One sec." Bucky scrolls through the courses, swearing at each new level that becomes unavailable.

Of the 32 playable courses, 18 have flying as part of the course, so they play as many variations of those courses as possible until they get bored and decide to play something else. They settle on Mario party(Because they're idiots), and Bucky is in the middle of kicking everybody's ass when they get a flight based challenge.

"Sam? You wanna sit out for this?" Bucky turns towards him, but Sam isn't moving. Bucky nudges him, and he sees how Sam jumps. "Maybe we should take a break".

"No, I'm ok." Sam rubs his eyes, shaking his head as vigorously as possible. "I'm just kinda tired".

"You definitely need a break. You completely spaced".

"I'm ok, Barnes. Jeez".

"Defensive." Bucky snaps at him, using his own words against him. God, how many times had he heard that in therapy?

"UGH".

"Sam... you need a break".

"Fine." Sam got up and stormed out of the room. "15 minutes. I'll be right back".

15 minutes came and went, and Sam was nowhere to be seen. Bucky gave it another 5 minutes, then got up to check on him. When he got to their room, the door was open and Sam was asleep on the bed. Bucky was about to leave when Sam twitched in his sleep, giving out a soft moan.

"Shit." Bucky swore lightly under his breath. He closed the door behind him and sat next to Sam's bed, taking up the same watchful position he was used to.

Bucky knew that Sam knew he did it, but he was also sure Sam didn't know why he did it. He remembers a time not so long ago when he would have given anything for someone to be at the foot of his bed when he got nightmares. He knows how important Sam is to Steve, and so he stands guard, waiting for the panic to wake him up.

And it does. Sam gasps as his eyes snap open, as he tries to get his bearings. Bucky waits patiently at the edge of the bed, waits for Sam to fall back asleep. He knows that Sam only typically has one nightmare per sleep period, so he just waits.

"Thank you." Sam whispers, half asleep already. Bucky just nods, then waits as Sam slowly fades from consciousness. He leaves the room shortly after, quiet enveloping his mind.

He spends the rest of the day cuddling with Steve.


	3. Gorgeous Little Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat's view of March 10th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hi! So, I'm feeling Inspired! and I wanna write, but I'm not feeling this story so it might be a little choppy.

Nat was at the Tower when March 10th rolled around.

"Talk to him. Or at least tell him you hate his guts. He wants to make up for what happened." She was saying to a drunk and indifferent Tony Stark.

"Noooooooooooooooooo." Tony slurred. "He's a butthole. Don't wanna".

"You are impossible".

"I don't like him, I don't need him, and I certainly don't want him back".

"Tony. Just talk to him. Please".

"...Fiiiiiiiiiiiine." Tony droned, throwing his head backwards.

Nat smirked at that. Steve was probably asleep and would therefore see the text in the morning, but she would take whatever small victory she could get. She wanted her family put back together.

Now, if only she could get Rhodey to not kill Steve on sight.

"Whadya think? Tomorrow?" Tony asks Nat.

"You mean today?" Nat points at the time in the corner of Tony's holoscreen.

"Oh. Did not mean to be up this late. Guess tomorrow will have to work".

"Yeah, today he'll be bu-" Nat cuts off, then swears violently in Russian. "Shit!"

"What?"

"Today is James'- I'm sorry, Bucky's- birthday".

"It is? Huh".

"I forgot to get him something." Nat says, smacking her forehead.

"So? Just say you forgot".

"Yeah, that's not going to work with him".

"Right, cuz of the memory thing from the serum? The, uh...." Tony snapped his fingers a few times, blanking on the word. "Eidetic memory!"

"Yeah. Speaking of, did you ever get the blanket Steve sent you?"

"Yeah, real comfy. I use it a lot actually." Tony frowns. "Yeah, ok, fine, I'll talk to him".

"That's all I ask".

Nat spent a little longer in the Tower, then went home. She checked her watch as she slipped in the door. 4 o'clock. Huh.

Two things instantly stood out to her. 1, James was not in his bed, and 2, he wasn't in her bed either. She back tracked to Steve's room, peering through the crack in the door at the two boys, entangled with one another and both more at peace than they had been in a long time. She smiled, then turned back to her room.

She didn't sleep. She couldn't. So she stayed in her room until Sam got up, because Sam was normally the first one up.

She saw the bags under his eyes as he hid from the line of sight of the living room.

"Did you piss Bucky off again?" She asked, and relished in the way he jumped out of his skin. She loved being feared, but Sam had been living with her long enough to know her patterns, and the fact that she could still spook him made her happy.

"Nat..." Sam looked nervous. "I think I fucked up".

She joked about that line until she walked in the room and saw James in Steve's lap.

"Ah." She managed, because Sam had a tendency to steal Steve with the sole intention of pissing James off, and he had probably just figured out why that bothered James so much.

"Go to bed,*little widow*." James laughed at her. "I know you didn't sleep".

Sam followed her into the room, and then, when James' birthday was mentioned, he left with James in tow.

"Uh....." was all Steve could say.

"He had a bad night. James is probably tied into that somehow. Is that a ring?"

"What?" Steve looked up sharply, then down at the picture he had drawn for James, paling as he did so. "Shit!"

"It is a ring. I wonder how long it took you to admit-"

"Nat, do me a favor and shut up while I look for the eraser".

Nat decided to hide the eraser that was tucked into the spiral of his notebook.

"Of course." She smiled. 

The funniest part was it took Steve at least ten minutes to figure out that Nat had the eraser, and another three minutes to get it away from her.

He was too late. By the time he started to erase the ring, James was storming out, shouting that he had a question.

Then, of course, there were declarations of love, one of which included Steve very bluntly mentioning he had shared a bed with James last night. Nat choked on her coffee when Steve said that.

"*Don't you dare*" James pointed at her, slipping into Russian involuntarily. "I will end you".

Nat simply raised her hands in surrender.

Then came Sam, who mentioned that it was Riley's birthday. Nat nodded, deducing that every March 10th in years previous had been spent by Sam 'elsewhere'.

They played MarioKart, and then Mario Party, because they were fucking trolls. Then, there was a challenge with flying, and James made Sam take a break.

"Fifteen minutes!" Sam called as he left the room.

"James,*Stop causing trouble*." Nat teases him in Russian.

"Tasha,*As I recall, you're the troublemaker*." James shot back.

"*That would be your boyfriend, actually*".

"*You know I can understand you*" Steve said in near perfect Russian. 

__

__

__"Yes, we know." Nat responded. "That's half the fun of it"._ _

__"*Goddammit*, I can't win with you!" James shouts as Nat shoves him off a cliff in the mini game._ _

__They continue to banter, but Nat sees how James is eyeing the clock, and she doesn't blame him. Sam still isn't back, and it's been more than fifteen minutes._ _

__"I'll be right back." he says, getting up and leaving the room._ _

__Nat watches him go, then falls into Steve's lap, giggling as she does so. Steve is one of the few people she's completely comfortable around._ _

__"so, you and James, huh?" Nat says, poking Steve in the ribs._ _

__"Yeah, I guess so." Steve smiles, and he looks calmer. Nat can't really explain it, but he looks younger._ _

__"I'm surprised you could walk properly, given how far down your throat he was this morning"._ _

__"Yeah, I- NAT!" Steve turns bright red as he registers Nat's words. "We didn't- I don't- We- Nat!"_ _

__"I'm only teasing, Steven." Nat smiles at Steve, who is still very red in the face. "But I know you've thought about it, and I can say, he has a rather nice package. If you like hot dogs instead of sausages, I mean"._ _

__"NAT!" Steve covers his ears, and Nat smiles wickedly. "I don't want to hear it!"_ _

__"I give you five weeks until your resolve breaks. He is very persuasive when he wants to be"._ _

__"Did you ever- I mean did you two-"_ _

__"Fuck? No, Steven. He's too old for me." Nat smiles at Steve's face. "That being said, he has crawled into my bed multiple times, and it's only a matter of time when you're that close"._ _

__"Oh." Steve blushes as his mind runs wild with scenarios for that line. Nat is debating whether to tell him it's just because she accidently walked in on him naked once when James comes back, curling up in Steve's arms._ _

__"I'm gonna stay here now." is all he says by way of explanation._ _

__"Ok..." Steve puts his arms around James, smiling as Nat gives him the eyebrow of questioning._ _

__"Let's watch a movie. Something new?"_ _

__"No Disney." Nat says forcefully. "Literally anything else"._ _

__"Well, there goes half my ideas!" Steve pouts at Nat, but it looks fake, and probably is._ _

__"Studio Ghibli." James suggests. Nat blinks, then nods._ _

__"Let's do Nausicaa. That's a cute one"._ _

__"Huh?" Steve looks so lost, and Nat starts giggling at his expression, bringing up the movie on their TV._ _

__They spend the rest of the day binging Ghibli movies._ _

__It's a good day._ _


	4. Valley of your love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's view of March 10th from the cuddling onward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so guess who has a million story ideas! I'm probably going to post a least two works tonight, this being one of them.

Steve had started the day with his best friend curled up in his arms. Now, he was probably going to end it the same way.

"Let's do Nausicaa." Nat was saying as Bucky laid his head on Steve's chest. Steve was so happy his friend was back, and that his beloved reciprocated his feelings, but he was feeling strange, almost sick.

They started watching the cute movie, and about halfway through Bucky fully climbed into his lap, which wasn't a problem until he started squirming a little, pressing against Steve's lower bits in a manner which wasn't entirely unpleasant.

"Um..." Steve began to turn red as squirmed again, the sensation causing him to imagine some... adult scenarios.

"You ok, babydoll?" Bucky says, and Steve swears he could just melt when those ice blue eyes focus on him, that perfect quivering mouth and those beautiful pink lips and-

Steve forces himself to take a deep breath. The fantisizing isn't new, but now that he can actually have Bucky, it's a lot harder to control its effects.

"Sugar? Talk to me please." Bucky says, holding Steve's hand. Steve manages to convince Bucky he's fine, but does have to get him off his lap. 

Five hours later, Nat goes to bed, yawning and complaining about how "you old men are no fun". Bucky says something to her in Russian, and she laughs, mostly because Steve doesn't understand the context of those words. The second she leaves the room, however, Bucky pounces on Steve, pinning him to the couch as he tugs at Steve's shirt. Steve has to restrain himself from stripping right then and there.

"Whoa, what's this?" He murmurs, but then Bucky gives him a big sloppy kiss and he can't even think anymore, he just wants to melt into nothing.

"I..." Bucky slows down after Steve says that. "I want you. Is... is it too much? Are we going too fast? Should I slow-"

Steve cuts him off with a kiss and a quick groping of Bucky's balls. Bucky stiffens, then relaxes, all but falling into Steve. Steve slides his hand up and down until he feels a bulge, smiling as he pulls away from the kiss.

"How do you want me, gorgeous?" Steve smiles, and when Bucky licks his lips absentmindedly, its all Steve can do to not beg Bucky to put those pretty lips around his now very erect cock.

"I want you..." Bucky nips his ear, and feels his grip on Bucky's balls tighten involuntarily, his breath coming fast and quick in anticipation. "I want you on your knees, screaming my name so loud they can hear it in the Bronx".

Steve strips for him, and Bucky plays with his entrance before driving into him, making him gasp a little as he thrusts his hips upward to meet Bucky. They go hard and fast, and Steve feels Bucky pull his hair, a soft moan escaping him as cold metal presses against his scalp. Bruises appear on his skin as Bucky's perfect hands slide over his, and suddenly he is begging, begging for more, begging for Bucky to suck him off. And after Bucky has his fun sticking it in his ass, he has Steve turn over, and those pretty little lips slide over his cock.

Steve damn near implodes when Bucky starts sucking. It feels so good, so much better than having it in his ass, much cleaner and smoother. Steve shudders as he thrusts his pelvis upwards, deepthroating his boyfriend and watching him gag a little. Bucky's so beautiful, and Steve can't look away as Bucky licks his cock, and then there's a spasm and thick white fluids come shooting out of him, hitting his perfect boyfriend in the face.

"Ohhh..." Steve moans, lowering himself as Bucky pants. "God, that was the best thing I've ever felt".

"You cummed on my face." Bucky looks like he's trying to be mad at him, but Steve gives him a wan smile and it all disappears, his gorgeous boyfriend sliding his fingers across his skin.

"I love you so much, honeycake." Steve smiles again, exhausted from all that pent up energy being released all at once. Bucky gives him little kisses on his stomach, working his way from just above Steve's crotch to his chest, then to his neck, and finally to his lips. Steve returns the favor, sucking on Bucky's neck and biting lightly on his collarbone. Steve works his way down, putting his mouth around Bucky's stiff package and sucking, trying hard not to bite.

When Bucky cums into his mouth, it's the best thing he's ever tasted; sweet but also salty, with the texture of a milkshake. Steve is starting to understand why sex is such a huge deal for people.

"Ohh, babydoll..." Bucky moans, and Steve feels his gut wrench as he picks up his boyfriend, carrying him to bed. This man, this absolutely perfect boy that he's been in love with since he was sixteen is finally his.

"How'd you like that birthday present?" Steve giggles.

"Best one I've ever gotten." Bucky smiles almost drunkenly, and Steve feels his chest get tight as he is flooded with adoration for his partner.

"is that so?"

"Can I have it again tomorrow?"

"Of course, darling".

They fall asleep holding each other, and Steve notices for the first time in years how tightly Bucky holds him.

At least now, he knows why.


	5. I Guess I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is being.... aggressively nice to Sam and it's worrying him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm back. I've been neglecting this series a little, I'm sorry.

Sam woke up on March 11th and expected his day to be semi-normal.

He did not expect for the VA to be shot up and his day to get hijacked by a 100+ year-old ex-assassin.

It was important to note that the two incidents were not related, as far as Sam knew. When he had woken up that morning, he had checked his phone and seen six missed calls from various VA secretaries, some of whom were off duty that week. He decided to call the last number he saw on there, and was greeted by a panicked 24 year old screaming that their office blew up.

"Meghan, what." Sam had said, still not entirely awake. Meghan had taken a few deep breathes, then repeated, "Someone blew up the VA".

"How".

"Dynamite? I don't know, Sam, I'm not a soldier".

"So, I take it I'm not coming in today?"

"You already weren't supposed to, you had yesterday listed as an incident day. But knowing you, you would have anyway".

"Can I go back to sleep?" Sam whined, glaring at the clock. It was only 8 am, but it felt much earlier.

"Yes, you can go back to sleep." Meghan had giggled, then hung up, leaving Sam to another blissful hour of sleep.

Or, that's what would have happened if Bucky hadn't burst into the room twenty minutes later, yelling in Xhosa as his arm made a crackling noise that it probably wasn't supposed to make. Every few seconds, he paused, his head pressed against his right shoulder as he panted and swore. Sam realized eventually that he was holding down his phone, and that he was probably talking to Shuri, who was basically his adoptive sister.

"Yeah, no, I tried that!" Bucky barked after a minute. "Why do you think I called yo- Don't you dare! I swear, I will tell T'challa about that 'My brother is a furry' video- Don't tell him that!"

Laughter sounded on the other end of the phone, and Bucky groaned, rolling his head back like the over-dramatic idiot he was.

"You're just as bad as Sam." Bucky muttered, and that hurt. Sam thought they were cool now.

"No, you'd love him, he's insufferable." Bucky grabbed a toolkit out of his dresser drawer, and Sam noticed he doesn't have many clothes, just a few pairs of jeans and sweats. He didn't see any shirts, so he assumed they were in a different drawer. "Yeah, just like you, just less... scienc-y? I guess".

Bucky started to fix his arm, barking out a laugh as he did so. Sam sat up, annoyed. First, he didn't have anything to distract him today, and now Bucky was ragging on him?

"No, he's great. Steve flexed on him while jogging cuz he's a little twerp- No, Steve is. Sam is great, you'd like him." Bucky was completely focused on his arm by this point, and he didn't notice Sam standing behind him. "He's amazing. He deserves a medal for putting up with me".

Sam caught the words "bad roommate", then something in Xhosa, and Bucky laughed again before he switched languages. Sam trundled to the bathroom, intent on showering before he got breakfast.

That had been an hour ago. Now he was halfway across New York in a specialty tool shop with someone he didn't even like that much, and he still had not had breakfast.

Bucky was asking the shopkeeper some questions in what sounded like Russian, but Sam couldn't really tell. He was hardly paying attention, too lost in his own annoyance.

"Sam?" Bucky calls, and Sam groans quietly before turning towards the assassin, who is struggling to keep his balance and turn over the thing he's looking at. His arm is put up in one of those carrier things they give you for a bad break, mostly because it's actually broken and he can't use it, but also so that no one questions the bandages coving the metal.

"Whaaaaaaat?" Sam whines, and internally he smacks himself, because what the fuck was that? He's not five.

"Help me?" Bucky gets this earnest look on his face, almost like a puppy anticipating play.

"Fine".

Sam trudges over, helping Bucky lift the stupid thing and inspect it. It looks like one of those things that holds cars up when you change the tires, but Sam wouldn't know. He's not a mechanic. Bucky inspects the car jack looking thing, then glances at his arm before nodding once and turning to the shopkeeper, saying something in what is most definitely not Russian, unless Bucky meant to cuss the guy out.

The shopkeeper and Bucky converse for a little bit, and Bucky starts getting a little more aggressive with his body language, so Sam is about to step in when the shopkeeper says something and Bucky goes rigid. Sam's first thought is the guy is a sleeper agent, and Bucky's just been activated.

"Well, fuck you too." Bucky mutters under his breath, before responding in the same language, pointing at Sam as he does so. Sam just groans again, squeezing his eyes shut. Why does he always get pulled into this shit?

"Well, fine, asshole." Bucky says, and Sam pokes an eye open. He doesn't think he's ever seen Bucky that pissed. "C'mon, we're going. Fucking asshole..."

"Did he not take kindly to the company you keep?" Sam spits, bitter. He's dealt with this bullshit his whole life...

"No, I just don't buy shit from homophobes." Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes. "I never understood why they call it that. It's not fear, it's hatred. Fucking asshole..."

"Oh." Sam feels his lips collapse into a line.

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, I'm sure you've been through some shit, cuz... you know..." Bucky flushes, looking away. He's fucked up his line of thinking. "I guess what I mean is I thought this century would be better, and instead I'm running into all the same problems. We've come far, but not far enough".

"I mean, New York is pretty good about this. Could be worse. Could be Alabama." Sam fakes a gag, which makes Bucky smile, relieving some of the tension. "I had to go there once for a school trip. Hated the whole thing".

"They made you go down there?" Bucky winces, then catches Sam's confused expression. "We knew families who came from down there, way back when. Steve was happy to have other Irish families in the building until we heard them say- Um, I'm not gonna say it, but I think you know what I mean. After that we only talked to them if Steve started picking fights, which he did about every other week. I figure it's better now, but the people we knew... it was bad. Had a couple friends get fired when the assholes took over dockmaster spots".

"You had friends who were..." Sam cuts off, shocked.

"Black, Brown, Purple, you name it. There was this Mexican lady in one place we lived that tried to teach us to make tamales, but the less said about that the better. Ended meeting her daughter, who worked at an Italian place. Steve got a job there cuz of her." Bucky smiles at the memory, gazing at the bright blue sky. "Had a buncha queer friends too, but that's a different conversation".

"Huh. You were progressive for your day." Sam comments, and Bucky barks out a laugh.

"Yeah, well you take a queer second generation kid with no money and you pair him with a sickly first gen bastard, you're gonna get some progressive views." Bucky smiles again, but it's sad this time. "I really had hoped they'd come up with a better word for it by now".

"What, homosexual?"

"No, bastard. It was rude then, and it still is." Bucky sighs, lost to his memories. "Steve used to say that it wasn't just an insult to the kid, but to their mom too. Cuz everyone blamed the mom when the dad split before marriage, and the kid couldn't help that".

"Is that what he was? Steve, I mean." Sam had known that Steve's dad had died before he was born, but he hadn't known that his mom wasn't married. Bucky nods slowly.

"Don't ever call him that, by the way." Bucky says after a short silence. "He'll deck so quick you'll see God, and I don't care how much trouble it gets me in, but I'll follow him".

"I won't, man. I wouldn't think of it." Sam pauses as the scent of donuts hits his nose. "Can we make a pit stop? I didn't have breakfast".

"You- Oh, shit! Sorry." Bucky flushes again, and Sam is genuinely confused; Bucky is never this open around him. "Yeah, let's get something".

They step into a bakery, and Sam decides to watch Bucky, observe his reactions. He notices that the first thing Bucky does when they enter the bakery is take a deep breath through his nose and hold it for a good ten seconds, exhaling through his mouth. The next thing he does is search the display case until he spots something, then smiles wide. It throws Sam off, because it's such a real smile, and the corners of his mouth crook up like when he remembers some sappy shit.

"You know, he never got me my cupcake." Bucky says, and Sam has no idea what he means by that, but he sees how Bucky gets a look on his face that he's only ever seen on Steve. "Ima guilt-trip him".

Bucky pulls out his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he texts someone, presumably Steve. His phone dings as he puts it back in his pocket, sending him into a fit of laughter. Sam decides he's going to get tired of that pretty quick, but before he asks Bucky to explain, his own phone starts ringing.

"Huh?" Sam answers when he sees Steve's name on the screen, concerned. "What's up?"

"Do you know if there's any good bakeries around here?" Steve sounds panicked, genuinely distressed. Sam just sighs loudly.

"Barnes, what did you do?"

"He forgot my cupcake, so I decided to have some fun with it".

"Sam, please, answer the question, I will explain later." Steve hisses into the phone.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Wait, is that him on the phone? Tell him I'm moping or some shit." Bucky gets a wild grin on his face, and Sam feels a new kind of annoyed.

"He want's me to tell you he's moping, but in reality, he's being a little troll. What's the deal with the cupcake?"

"Wait, he told you- I'm so dead." Steve sounds genuinely distressed, and it's weirding Sam out.

"What is going on?"

"I forgot to get his cupcake".

"You haven't explained what that means." Sam hisses as they get to the front, and Bucky starts asking for food in Spanish. "Barnes, why are you like this?"

Bucky just shrugs, then keeps ordering in Spanish. Sam catches "Chocolate muffin" and "Raspberry danish" before he loses track of what's happening in favor of Steve's explanation. Steve starts blabbering about how he always used to get Bucky a cupcake on his birthday because he was poor and that was all he could afford, and Sam returns his focus to Bucky, who is giggling at his phone and grinning like an idiot. Sam tries to remember the last time he saw Bucky that happy, the last time he saw anyone that happy.

The fact that he can't remember bothers him.

"He's trolling you, you know." Sam absentmindedly informs Steve. "He told me he was gonna guilt-trip you".

"Huh." Steve says, less panicked now. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've been with him all day".

"Oh. I thought you had work?"

"Yeah, something came up, and he's been dragging me around all day. It's annoying".

"You say that like you don't enjoy my company, Wilson." Bucky smiles at him, but upon seeing he's failed to get a response, his face falls, and he looks away. "Never mind".

"Was I supposed to laugh?" Sam asks, absolutely done with Bucky because he still hasn't eaten and now he's crabby.

"Um, no, I just kinda forgot where I was for a second." Bucky looks away, blushing slightly. "That's the kind of thing I'd say to the Howlies, and... I don't know. I guess I just forgot".

"Oh." Sam feels bad for pissing on his sunshine, but he doesn't feel bad enough to apologize yet. Plus, he technically pulled Bucky out of a flashback, so maybe he shouldn't? He doesn't know what to do. "I'm sorry, I guess?"

"No, it's not your fault, I just..." Bucky sighed, and Sam suddenly felt really bad for being kind of a dick, even if he had been hungry. "I'm sad now, and I don't know why".

"Yeah, that's kinda my fault. I should have responded to you." Sam rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I probably threw you off".

"That doesn't explain why I'm sad, though." Bucky whines, sitting down at a table with their order. "I was happy two seconds ago!"

"Yeah, actually, that's exactly why you're sad." Sam sits, fishing out his danish and taking a little carton of milk(when had Barnes ordered those?). "Happy and Sad aren't opposites in your brain. They're actually right next to each other. If you're feeling one emotion really intensely, then you can easily slip into another mood, because all it takes is one chemical change. That's why you can go from euphoric to depressed in, like, two seconds; one thing throws off your happy streak and bam, you're sad".

"Mmh." Bucky picks out a bagel from the bag with their food in it and stares at it. "Well, it's stupid. I don't like it".

"Well, while I have you in realist mode, why've you been dragging me around all day?" Sam squints at Bucky's metal arm. "Don't we have the tools to fix that at home?"

"Well, yeah, but I wanted to make a restrictor so I can't break it again. And I don't have the tools to do that safely at home." Bucky sticks a little straw in his milk carton. "Plus... I've kinda been an asshole to you for the past year and I wanted to... I don't know, apologize, I guess".

"Best way you coulda done that is let me sleep in and get me a halfway decent taco." Sam sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Seriously, all that to say you're sorry?"

"I'm out of practice when it comes to people." Bucky looks around the room, paranoia settling in his eyes. "Case in point, I have ten different ways to kill everyone in this room, but no reactions for if the barista starts flirting with me".

"Well, you were doing ok earlier with the whole cupcake thing." Sam points out, a lot less crabby now that he's had food in him for a solid five minutes.

"Yeah, but that's Steve. He's a huge dork, and we've been friends for forever. He's easy".

"I'm gonna tell him you said that".

"Why? He already knows." Bucky wrinkles his brow, then looks up quickly. "Oh, shit, is that slang for something?"

"I'm not telling you." Sam laughs, tossing his milk in the trash.

"What does it mean?"

Sam pulls out his phone and texts Nat, intending to tell her to come pick up her over-dramatic Russian boy toy.

When he sees 26 missed messages, his laughter dies in his throat.

"We gotta go".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I'm leaving you with a cliffhanger! I'm so evil!
> 
> But in all seriousness, I cannot end chapters smoothly to save my life. Plus, new conflict, and you get to see my babies in action!


	6. Number 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasha is in trouble, and Bucky has to work with Sam to help her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I know I hardly ever update, I'm sorry, but I feel inspired so take this!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter discusses the mistreatment of LGBT+ people in the 30's. Kinda graphic. Also, Bucky uses a slur because he has a panic attack.

"We gotta go." Sam stands up quickly, and Bucky glances at his own phone. *27 messages from blocked number*. That was weird. He clicks on the notification and feels his eyes widen when he reads the number. Tasha's number. 27 missed messages from Tasha.

Several questions run through his mind- Why was Tasha's number blocked? How did he not notice the missed messages sooner? Why hadn't she called him?- before he dismisses them as irrelevant. He calls Tasha's number, unblocking her as he does so.

Instead of her normal "Romanov.", he gets "This is Agent Romanov. I'm working, call back later." and a quiet beep.

"She's not answering." Bucky swears lightly, looking at Sam as he opens the messages and reads them. Most of them say things along the lines of "Don't come, Sam's helping" or "I'm alright, don't be alarmed if I look a little banged up later", but there are a few "Help, this is where I am" texts that Bucky is far more focused on.

"At least she had the brains to give her location. Unlike some people." Sam glares pointedly at him, and Bucky suspects that Sam is still a little pissed at him. Which, again, fine, he doesn't care.

Except he does. Sam could be a useful ally, and he hasn't had a friend in a long time. It kind of hurt to distance himself when he was being petty, but now, he has a shot at a normal friendship, except he's an asshole who can't do anything right, ever.

Not that he cares about that, of course.

They sprint down the alleyway behind the shop they stopped at, tracking Tasha's phone and heading towards the old roped off building that marks her last known location. Except where Sam moves to step inside, Bucky stops dead in his tracks. He never thought he'd be back here, didn't even think this place was still standing.

"This is St. Dominic's." Bucky says involuntarily, the word _asylum _tumbling around in his mind. St. Dominic's is a madhouse, and he knows what they do to queers who don't keep quiet, who insist that they aren't at fault for who they love. They get sent to get fixed, and when they do...__

__"Bucky! Eyes on me!" Sam says, harshly, and somehow that brings Bucky back, but not all the way. He almost got locked up here, a lifetime ago. "C'mon, snap out of it! I need your supersenses"._ _

__"Yeah, coming." Bucky just stares at the looming building, dread forming in his stomach as a tangled, writhing knot. He feels a little sick, but then his phone dings, and he refocuses. _Tasha needs us _he thinks to himself, following Sam inside.___ _

____The first two floors reveal nothing except decaying walls and rotting floors. The third floor yields the sound of struggle, and as they rush into one of the operating theaters, Bucky notices how Tasha is strapped to the table, how the idiot who messed with her is battered, but standing, and how he has a rusty scalpel in his hand, smiling that wicked smile-_ _ _ _

____*Dr. Rikstein* Bucky thinks, and then his mind goes blank, he's charging, pushing the guy over, punching his face in, over and over and over-__ _ _

______"Bucky!" Sam is pulling at his arms, pulling him away. "Bucky, stop. He's already dead"._ _ _ _ _ _

______The guy is dead, and Bucky feels himself slowly drift towards consciousness, looking up and seeing Tasha, realizing she wasn't strapped to the table, she was just pinned down awkwardly. He feels that writhing knot in his stomach begin to expand, the sickness causing him to shake as he suppresses a gag, then another, before he drops to his knees and retches onto the stained floor of the operating theater, his nerves and fear overwhelming him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I told you not to come." Tasha says as he finishes throwing up his breakfast and his vision starts to fade to black. "I told you not to come help"._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sam is begging for answers when the world falls out from under him, and he's left to his nightmarish mindscape._ _ _ _ _ _

______In his dream, he's writhing against the bonds, screaming and shouting and begging for them not to take him. In his dream, they are smiling cruelly, and he is helpless, watching as the long, polished needle gets closer and closer to his eye, as they pass rooms upon rooms of screaming patients. If they weren't crazy when they got here, they are now._ _ _ _ _ _

______In his dream, he's drugged but conscious, staring blankly at the little needle and hammer that will turn his brains into mush. He feels the nurse sneer as she declares he was "admitted for homosexuality", tries to argue that it was just a kiss, that he was drunk, that it didn't mean anything, but it's like his mouth is sewn shut. He can't speak, and the needle gets, closer, and closer, and-_ _ _ _ _ _

______"NO!" He sits up, hitting something with his shoulder as he writhes against the hands that pin him. "I'M NOT A FREAK! LET ME GO! LEMME GO!"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"James. James!" One of the nurses is talking to him, a pretty one with red hair. She's staring at him, trying to calm him down. "James, listen to me"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"LEMME GO! LEMME OUT!" Bucky pulls against the hands, manages to hit the doctor that's trying to pin him._ _ _ _ _ _

______The black doctor._ _ _ _ _ _

______Black._ _ _ _ _ _

______There were no black doctors at St. Dominic's when he stayed. When they almost got him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"BARNES, YOU HIT ME ONE MORE TIME AND I WILL-" Sam cuts off when he sees that Bucky is awake, when he hears the quiet "Sam?" that escapes him. Tears spring up in Bucky's eyes, and he struggles to control his breathing._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You had one job, Samuel." Tasha says as she eases up off Bucky's wrist. "I ask for one thing"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ok, 1, I just looked at my phone to find out where you were, and 2, how the hell was I supposed to know he'd freak out!" Sam sounds exasperated, but Bucky flinches at the sharp tone, and the word 'freak' sends him spinning again. He's not a freak, it was just a kiss, he was drunk, it didn't mean anything..._ _ _ _ _ _

______The sun hits his face, and he surfaces, aware he's being lead down a set of stairs. Sam is on his left, talking to someone who is making him nervous. Tasha is facing him now, and she is saying something to him, but he can't really hear her, like he's underwater._ _ _ _ _ _

______"What?" He asks blankly, because judging by the look on her face, whatever she said was important._ _ _ _ _ _

______"I asked if you're feelin-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"YOU DID WHAT?" A voice to his left roars, and suddenly Sam is speaking very quickly, and Bucky feels his mind caving in on him._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Tasha, Я не выживу, я думаю, что умираю, Таша, помогите, пожалуйста, помогите я ... Таша![I'm not gonna make it, I think I'm dying, Tasha help please help... Tasha!]"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"James, Смотри на меня. Посмотри на меня, Джеймс, ты в порядке, ты в порядке. Посмотри на меня, Джеймс, с тобой все будет хорошо, просто дыши.[Look at me. Look at me James, you're alright, you're ok. Look at me, James, you are going to be fine, just breathe]"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Tasha, Пожалуйста, я не хочу умирать, я не хочу, чтобы они убивали меня, это был всего лишь поцелуй, Таша, это ничего не значило, пожалуйста, не позволяй им причинять мне боль[Please, I don't want to die, I don't want them to kill me, it was only a kiss, Tasha, it didn't mean anything, please don't let them hurt me]." Bucky sobs, his mind spiraling out to places unknown._ _ _ _ _ _

______"James, Я не понимаю Что ты имеешь в виду?[I don't understand. What do you mean by that?]"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Это был только поцелуй, это был только поцелуй, это был только поцелуй, пожалуйста, я не педик[It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss, please, I'm not a faggot]"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"James!" Tasha sounds shocked, sounds upset. "Вы должны знать лучше всех[You of all people should know better]. Really, you have a boyfriend! I'm shocked that you would-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bucky lets out a low whine and begins protesting again, cutting her off. Between the heavy sobs and his broken Russian, it's a miracle she can understand him at all, but once she picks up on the fact he's in fear of his life, she seems to calm down._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Tasha, Я собираюсь умереть?[Am I going to die?]"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Как ты думаешь, какой сейчас год, Джеймс?[What year do you think it is, James?]"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bucky hears those words and starts to surface a little. What year is it? What a silly question, it's... it's..._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Я не знаю[I don't know]." Bucky says quietly, then starts to panic. "Я не знаю! Таша, они меня поймали, поджарили мне мозги и теперь запрут меня вместе со всеми остальными сумасшедшими, но я не сумасшедший, я не сумасшедший![I don't know! Tasha, they got me, they fried my brains and now they're gonna lock me away with all the other crazy people but I'm not crazy, I'm not!]"_ _ _ _ _ _

______He hears his voice break, and he feels his body shaking as he curls into a ball, sobbing violently as flashes of what could be done to him pierce his mind. He lets out a low wail, tears staining his face as Tasha gently tries to calm him down. Eventually, he feels himself being led, and then he sits down on a couch. Their couch, he realizes. They're at home, they're safe. He's safe. He feels something in him release with that realization, his mind going numb as he stares blankly in the direction of the coffee table. His eyes unfocus, and he feels his mind take control of his surrounding, allowing him to reflect on what just happened._ _ _ _ _ _

______Clearly, he's just had a panic attack. That much he knows. The better question is why. He can't quite remember what they were doing that had him reacting so strongly. They were somewhere from his past, because he lost track of when he was, but it had to be somewhere that he hated, and the only places like that that would still be standing were his and Steve's old place, their old church, and-_ _ _ _ _ _

______St. Dominic's Asylum. Shit, that... that explained a lot. Tasha had said 'I told you not to come', and of course she would know, but Sam didn't, and he probably lost it the second they got inside. He wouldn't be surprised, he had even reverted to Russian, which he only did in places he associated with pain. Shit, he was an idiot._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Tasha." He says thickly, and as the red head turns towards him, he feels the last of his panic fade, leaving only exhaustion. "I... Did you know?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"I need more information than that, James." Tasha says, and Bucky nods slowly._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Did you know I had been admitted?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Yes. Do you want to tell Sam, or should we wait for Steve to get here?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh, is he up?" Sam walks into his field of view, and Bucky watches him, his body tensing involuntarily._ _ _ _ _ _

______"It's just Sam, stupid, why are you freaking out?" Bucky means to say it in his head, but based on how Sam turns and gives him a look, he said it out loud. "That was supposed to be in my head"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Ah. So, what the hell was all that?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Do you know what St. Dominic's was? When I was a kid?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"What the fuck even is-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"It's the building we were in. It used to be an asylum. I... was admitted for homosexuality in the thirties. It almost ended really badly"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"You... oh." Sam looks embarrassed, or maybe he's realized what Bucky's saying. "So, you, um..."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"I kissed Steve at a party. The same party where I figured out I was in love with him, actually, but I was stupid drunk, so I thought I could get away with it. When they came for me, I was so scared I couldn't even defend myself. If I had told them I'd been drunk, they would have let me go with out a second thought, but I just... froze"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh." Sam says, again looking embarrassed. "I hadn't thought about how they would have considered you crazy for..."_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh, yeah. It's one of the reasons I was so tight-lipped about it. If you were found out, they sent you to St. Dominic's, and if you weren't crazy when you got there, you soon would be. No one got released, no one got cured. St. Dominic's was where they sent queers to die"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh"._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bucky doesn't say anything, just nods slowly. Sam sits next to him, and he leans over, resting his head on Sam's shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _

______"So, how'd you get out?" Sam asks timidly._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Steve. Little bastard managed to convince everyone there that I actually had been stupid drunk, and he even brought my little sister to pretend to be my girlfriend if necessary. Thankfully, it didn't come to that, but it was close for a second there"._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Bucky?" Steve's voice comes from the hallway, and Bucky gives a dry chuckle._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Speak of the devil. We're in here, babe!"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Babe?" Sam says, raising an eyebrow. "Really, one day and you're already doing the cute pet names?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______"Oh, shut up, you're just jealous." Bucky laughs as Steve rushes into the room. "Time to re-center"._ _ _ _ _ _


	7. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After James has his panic attack, Natasha has to get him home and contact his boyfriend. She should have been prepared for the questions Sam would ask, and she was. She just wasn't prepared for *that* one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I have plans to finish this fic! I'm so, so sorry for not posting sooner!

"Shit".

Nat hears herself saying it, and she knows she'll be saying it a lot more in the coming moments. James is in front of her, shivering and begging softly in Russian as he curls into a tight ball and squeezes his eyes shut. Sam's freaking out behind her, and she hears him asking a barrage of questions, but she's focused on James. He shouldn't have come, this place had to have strong memories for him.

"James, *I want you to focus on me*." Nat watches as he almost surfaces, then recognizes where he is and immediately dissolves again. "*Come, Soldier. We are leaving*".

James' features slip into that blankness that comes with following orders, his body moving independent of his mind. She does feel bad for removing his autonomy, but they won't get anywhere here. As she guides him, she hands Sam her phone, opening the contacts to the last number she called; Steven.

"Call him, tell him that James is fine, that he started to panic and that's why I hung up. I can't speak to him at the moment, but I will once I have a free hand." Nat nods when Sam begins to do exactly that. James is now standing and Nat begins to push him towards the door, keeping a close eye on Sam. It may be shock preventing the questions from overwhelming them both, but it won't last.

Somewhere around the second floor, Sam begins to argue with Steven, who has yet to behave himself and actually listen. She is aware that perhaps it is harder for him to sit with the unknown; he's not a spy, he would have never had to acquire that sort of patience. But she can't give him answers, and with their apartment an hour away from the Tower on a good day, it may take a while to actually get Steven back home, as she has every intention of making him calm down before he drove anywhere.

They get down to the first floor, and she guides James to a rotting bench and presses on his shoulders, Sam shouting wildly in the background.

"*Sit*." She instructs James, and he sits, tracking her movements with that same blank look on his face. She knows, of course, that James himself cannot see her, but she does wonder if perhaps he does see. "*Do you know me, Soldier?*"

"*Yes*." James says it so quietly that were it not for her enhancements, she might not have heard him. He tracks her movements, and she knows that James isn't in there, but someone most certainly is.

"I'd like to continue in English, if that's alright?" Nat smiles kindly as the person inside James nods. "What should I call you?"

The person blinks in shock. He hadn't been anticipating that, apparently. Nat relaxes her posture as much as she can, putting him visibly more at ease. So he's definitely a soldier, and he speaks Russian...

"Are you the Winter Soldier?" Nat asks carefully. The sudden tensing of James' body tells her all she has to know. "It's alright, no one here will hurt you. You aren't quite what we're used to, are you?"

The Soldier nods. Nat remembers that the Soldier prefers not to speak when active, even if he has the capability. Nat smiles again, then stands slowly, allowing the Soldier to keep his eyes on her the whole time.

"Samuel." She pronounces clearly. Sam turns and looks at her, she is aware of that, but her eyes are on the Soldier. She holds her hand behind her, gesturing with almost a beckoning manner. "Phone".

"Oh, um..." Sam hands her the phone as the Soldier growls under his breath. Nat catches the words "not a child" in Russian, to which she responds "You aren't thinking of running?", a phrase which only earns her a full faced flush and more growling. The Soldier doesn't seem to want to run, but she knows how this little song and dance ends if she's not paying attention. Slowly, she brings the phone up to her ear, hearing ranting on the part of Steven.

"Are you ready to listen?" Nat says sharply, and she watches the Soldier flinch, but just barely. Steven takes a deep breath, then lets it out after a moment longer than necessary. Nat smirks quickly before returning her attention to the Soldier. "Physically, he's fine. Mentally... That's a discussion we should all have together, and I think, Steven, you should be aware of something; It, if it is what I believe it to be, only exists to protect him".

"Nat, what-" Steven cuts himself off. "He's ok. Can you get him back to the apartment?"

"I believe that would be possible, yes." Nat watches the Soldier grow frustrated. "At ease, Soldier. This is a new development, but you are in no danger. We are going to discuss adjustments, and that may or may not include you, but you will be involved in all conversations if applicable. Understood?"

"Yes, that is understood." the Soldier nods briefly, and Nat again drops to his level, hanging up on Steven with a quick "Calm down, then get home".

"Listen. You may have been here the whole time, but we are just now becoming aware of that, and it may cause some complications. You aren't in danger, and we recognize your function as a protector. That is what you are here for, yes?"

"Yes. He became distressed. When he is distressed, I... awaken. It has always been as such." The Soldier looks at Nat, and she sees fear in his eyes. "They made him to be a weapon, but only succeeded in creating me. He surrendered control to me when they injured him, almost completely, and they used me as their weapon. He is not in control, but he can see. We can both see when blood is spilled".

"Is that why you killed my target?" Nat hums when the Soldier stiffens again. "I'm not upset, I simply wish to know".

"He was hurting you." The Soldier's eyes flick about, his arms drawing closer to himself. He's nervous, Nat realizes. "He became distressed. I eliminated the source of his distress. Is he injured? He refuses to resume control".

"Does he know you exist?"

"What the fuck is happening over here?" Sam cuts in, clearly confused.

"*Widow, you have not answered my question*. He refuses to resume control, but I cannot locate the source of distress." The Soldier repeats.

"The source of distress is psychological, you wouldn't be able to detect it." Nat responds before repeating her original question. Sam opens his mouth again, and she turns to him, annoyed. "Samuel, if you would watch and listen! Soldier, is James aware of your presence?"

"He is aware, but he does not know. He believes me a product of the torture, which I am. He does not realize I did not die when his triggers were removed".

"Wait, what?" Sam's eyes suddenly go wide. "Wait, that's the Winter Soldier. That's- are you for real?"

The Soldier looks incredibly nervous, so Nat decides to answer his questions on the way home. They summon a car from SHIELD, and the farther away they get from the asylum, the more relaxed both the Soldier and James appear. They have a long discussion about The Soldier, who prefers to be called Winter, and Sam asks several questions about his formation and the effect he has on James.

Nat is prepared for the possibility of triggering questions. She's a spy, it is her job to anticipate that sort of thing.

She is not prepared for Sam to turn to her and ask "Wait, if this guy was in charge while he was at HYDRA, how the hell did he know you?"

Nat actually knows the answer to that question, but answering it a lot harder than just opening her mouth. Thankfully, Winter answers for her.

"James liked the Widows. They reminded him of his sisters. He became comfortable around them, and we developed a method of communication through it. I do not believe he knows that's what it was, but that is the closest explanation I can provide. We... share memories. He was- is- aware of everything I do, but is not aware that it is me doing it. And with Natalia, she knew what we were. What I was. There were not words for it when she was a child, and I was not needed often during his recovery. As of late, I have been more active, more aware of the world around me. James is distressed, nervous".

"He... I guess. I wouldn't have really noticed." Sam glares at the floor, then opens his mouth before snapping it shut. "Wait, so, if you knew... Nat, you knew".

Nat realizes she'll have to answer that question.

"I know, because I had something similar. It never was enough that I relied on my persona to take over for me, but I did have it. It was almost like a mask; Natalia was the Black Widow, and Natasha was me. I thought, until recently, that was what James experienced as well. It's not exactly something you talk about causally".

"He is feeling more comfortable. I believe he may return soon, but I do not believe the transition will be smooth. He may not be fully autonomous for a few moments after his return, but he will be aware".

Winter answers all their questions, and they almost make it to their apartment before James returns, but not quite. Halfway up the fourth flight of stairs, Winter freezes, and the blank look floods his features. Nat recognizes the symptoms of James' return, and pushes him up the stairs. He becomes slightly more conscious when Nat sits him down on the couch, but he doesn't speak for a moment after that, revealing to Sam that he was admitted to the asylum they just left for his orientation when he was young. Then Steven arrives, and Nat prepares for the questions, but surprisingly, Steven only has one.

"Are you two finally going to tell me the truth?"


End file.
